


but don't you know, i've always been a loner

by DevilishKurumi



Series: let's go college au [1]
Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Guys Being Pals, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-10 14:01:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3293015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevilishKurumi/pseuds/DevilishKurumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hi," the stranger says, with a morning person voice that immediately makes Murderface want to sleep for a thousand years out of spite.  He has big blue eyes and a big old grin.</p><p>"Uhhhh," Murderface says.</p><p>(murderface's sophomore year: he doesn't expect to make a new friend and he has no idea how to react.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. meeting (pt 1)

**Author's Note:**

> I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY THIS the fic series which will kind of hop place to place in time as i work on it all haha
> 
> also pls feel free to tell me if the formatting is jarring im workin with what i got here
> 
> if u want to see what i've got for this au aside from the ao3 series, [here's my tag for it](http://devilishkurumi.tumblr.com/tagged/college+au)!

            Murderface has never had to do a class project with anyone. Well. More accurately, he's never been _asked_ to do a class project with anyone. Teachers found out about the other students' aversions towards him and then he'd wow them with a powerpoint he threw together in 20 minutes and they'd just accept that he was perfectly capable on his own. Which _has_ been true since high school.

            That's why he doesn't bother moving from the back corner while other students are getting into discussion groups to talk about the stupid book they're supposed to be reading for this dumb Lit 101 class. He doesn't draw attention to himself; he just keeps his nose in his book and pretends to be hungover. It usually works. The professor doesn't even look at him. He's got a fortress built up around him; nobody will want to work with him and even if they somehow _did_ , they'd never get past his defenses. Iron- _clad_ , motherfucker!

            Then, somebody plonks down in the empty desk next to him and ruins _fucking_ _everything_. He's got a shirt for the band Nathan has a poster of in his dorm room, but Murderface has never seen this guy in his life. He knows he hasn't. He would have remembered him. He's not sure why he thinks that but he fucking _knows_ , if this guy had walked up to him at any other time, he would've remembered him. Something about his nose filling up the right amount of his face, maybe? He's not sure. He's not really aware of the fact that he's staring like a fucking moron.

            "Hi," the stranger says, with a morning person voice that immediately makes Murderface want to sleep for a thousand years out of spite. He has big blue eyes and a big old grin, filled with actually white teeth.

            "Uhhhh," Murderface says.

            "I ams not, ehhh, _goods_ talkings about these things in English, but I can see the professor givings me a nasty look for nots getting into a group. Covers me so I don'ts make an enemies of her right off the bat, okays?"

            "Uhhhh," Murderface repeats, with a different inflection.

            "I'm Toki," he adds, sticking out his hand. He has a scar on the web between his thumb and his finger. It looks like it hurt. Murderface doesn't know why he's micro-cataloguing every single imperfection in this guy's skin.

            "Uh..."

            Toki's expression pinches into a frown, which doesn't look good on his face, and he makes a couple gestures with his hands.

            "...What the fuck are you doing?" Murderface asks, finally finding his voice after being blindsided by this... this _guy_ here. Toki looks momentarily surprised, then embarrassed.

            "Oh! Um... ams you okays with me sitting here?"

            Since he's worn out his ability to stall with filler words, Murderface gives up and snaps, "Like I give a fuck what you do!"

            Maybe he's dumb. Maybe he doesn't understand what it means when an American gets fucking hostile. Maybe he barely understands English at all. Instead of feeling threatened or maybe at least fucking unwanted, Toki just grins and opens up his book like he's going to try and start a discussion about it. Then, he proceeds to say fucking _nothing_. He just... does what Murderface is doing and keeps to himself. The only difference is that he's humming along to whatever song is stuck in his head.

            Well, good. It's a step up from having to discuss this piece of shit book about a kid on a boat. Who even gives a shit, unless the kid gets eaten? Does Toki care? Does he care about the fucking life of Pi? What song is he humming? It sounds really familiar. His accent sounded familiar, too, but Murderface doesn't know. He's not even sure if a kid from the international housing should _be_ in an English class. Fuck his life. He needs answers.

            Murderface doesn't usually want to learn about strangers. He doesn't care about other people, _usually_. He doesn't want to know their opinions on things. All that matters is himself - and okay, maybe his friends, or... whatever they are - and everything else can fuck off. He doesn't know why he feels like he might word-vomit everywhere all of a sudden.

            He's read the same line three times already. His brain is having trouble processing fucking anything.

            Murderface inevitably asks Toki where he's from. Except, he couches it in more comfortable language. "Where the fuck is that shtupid accent from, anyway?"

            Toki blinks at him and Murderface suddenly regrets calling him stupid, but it doesn't seem to phase him one way or another. "I'm from Norway," he says. "I moved here, ehh... two months before school? Here, meanings America, not... here." He laughs, and Murderface tries hard to scowl, but he just can't do it.

            "Okay," he says instead, looking back at his book.

            "Ams you from here? Or do you lives on campus?"

            Murderface hadn't expected Toki to continue the conversation, and he stares at him in confusion. Then suspicion. Then... well, he doesn't know exactly _what_ it is, but it feels _weird_. The fuck does this kid want to know about _him_ for?

            "Uhh. I live... here. In town. ...You, uh. You don't talk to a lot of locals, do you."

            "Nopes. I haven't talked to many peoples, other thans some of the international housing students. But my English ams pretty bad, so talking to native speakers ams a little, eh. Hard."

            "You're not _that_ bad at it," Murderface mutters. He tries hard to not be heard, but of course he's going to be heard - a stage mutter is still fucking audible and he fucking knows it.

            "Thanks!"

            They're quiet for a little longer. Toki's still humming. Murderface's chest is doing this weird spasmy thing, and it flares up when Toki speaks up again to ask, "What's your name?"

            "Uh. William. ...Everybody calls me Murderface."

            Toki's eyebrows raise and Murderface thinks, _well, there it is_ , but instead he just asks, " _Moidaface_? ...Uh, ams it a joke, or somethings?"

            "It's my lasht name, dickhole," Murderface spits, and when Toki looks properly abashed, Murderface immediately feels like a huge asshole. "We think it was a clerical error," he mumbles, scratching the back of his head and looking at the desk. "But it'sh cool. So it stuck."

            "It _ams_ pretty cools! Kind of metal. I knows plenty of guys back home who woulds take that name for their bands image, or somethings. Ams you into music?"

            "My friends are," Murderface says. "One of 'em ish in a band, I guess."

            "Cools! Do they plays on campus?"

            Murderface winds up telling Toki about Pickles' band, which isn't really a band so much as him and some fellow music majors getting stoned and adlibbing songs together. He also tells him a bit about Nathan's metalhead tendencies, which Toki gets a little excited about. Murderface doesn't know how he feels. Weird, mostly. That gross mossy feeling in his stomach isn't going away, and it gets worse when Toki stares at him too long with his big eyes.

            The class ends with everyone in groups, though Murderface doubts anyone's still talking about the book. There's a rush to the door that Murderface avoids by not fucking worrying about getting out of the room before everyone else. It's a mindblowing concept, apparently, by the way people bum-rush the door like they're desperate to escape a sinking ship. Toki sits there with him, even as he packs up all his stuff and looks at the door a couple of times. "I hopes to runs into these guys you were talkings about," he says.

            Not him, of course, but Murderface isn't surprised. "You won't miss 'em," he grunts, standing up despite the fact that the door is still crowded by people trying to talk to the professor. He suddenly feels like maybe this ship is too waterlogged for its own good.

            "Ah, holds on, ams you leavings?"

            "I have other places to be, you know!"

            Toki's ignoring him in favor of digging around his backpack. "Holds on, though - ah!"

            He pulls out a graph paper pad and pulls the pen out from behind his ear. "Coulds you gives me you's numbers, maybe?"

            ".........What?"

            "I can gives you mine too! I justs - don't, eh... Haves many peoples to talk to on campus? And you seems pretty cools, you knows? So maybe we coulds be friends?"

            When Pickles and Nathan call him their friend, they say it kind of like a joking insult. Skwisgaar doesn't _call_ him a friend, but you know, he's Skwisgaar. This, though, is brand new territory. He hasn't been in this position _ever_. It's weird. He doesn't like it.

            "Nobody's ashked for my number before," he blurts out. He doesn't have time to shape the words into something more hostile, or at least less personal. He feels like a fucking idiot. He _is_ a fucking idiot. Toki's expression doesn't change, but Murderface _knows_ what an idiot he's being.

            "Wells, there ams a first time for everythings!"

            Murderface gives him his number. Toki scribbles his across the corner of the page and rips it out, holding it out with a grin that Murderface doesn't know how to read. He's not used to this. How did he get so far out into open water without realizing it?

            This is why he doesn't _talk_ to people!

            "Okay, thanks," he says, quickly, and then he bolts because he sees an opening and he doesn't want to end up making a huge asshole of himself. Normally, that's exactly why he sticks around, but something about Toki ignoring every one of his dickish responses makes him want to get while the getting's good.

            He makes it halfway across campus before he pulls out his phone and frantically punches keys until he's got something to send to Nathan, who keeps the conversation up despite the fact that he's supposed to be in class right now.

 

> _(619) sum1 gave me thir #!!_
> 
> _(321) cool?_
> 
> _(619) YES its fckn cool fu cant u let me hv this_
> 
> _(321) ugh fine Congratulations Murderface! You got a chicks number and I am really invested in this development! You are totally cool now. Your dick is gonna get sucked SOOOOO hard._
> 
> _(619) 1 fu sarcasm not fckn apreciated 2 its not a grls # wat grl wuld give me thir #_
> 
> _(321) oh_
> 
> _(321) uhhhhhhh thats really cool dude.......... i didnt kno u were in2 guys_
> 
> _(619) FCK OFF ok he wnted 2 b friends ok? is that so weird_
> 
> _(321) kind of i mean who just asks 2 be friends w someone thats WEIRD_
> 
> _(619) ur grandma 8 ur granddad in a soup dnt tell me wats weird_
> 
> _(321) u cant see it but i am rolling my eyes so hard. the girl next to me is giving me a weird look. im sacrificing my dignity 2 roll my eyes @ u_
> 
> _(619) IF I WANTED SARCASM I WULD HV TALKED 2 PCKL!!!_

 

            Nathan doesn't respond for a while, which is okay. Murderface has Behavioral Psychology, and he actually gives a shit about what the professor is talking about, so he doesn't have time to text. He doesn't even check his phone for the full class. When he does, all he finds is some emojis that his phone can't translate, so whatever. He knows that Nathan's pretty shitty at being a pal, but he's more comfortable to text. Pickles doesn't mind getting down in the emotional dirt - Nathan prefers to not fucking deal with it. Murderface can respect that. Hell, he practically depends on it.

            He doesn't wind up seeing them all day. He goes home early instead of sticking around, and waits until his grandparents get distracted by _Law & Order_ to put Toki's number into his phone. He almost texts Nathan to ask about texting protocols, but he's already gotten called gay enough for one day and he doesn't want to start a precedent.

            His phone beeps some twenty minutes later, and he gets a little stoked until he sees that it's just from Pickles. Before he can even read the first one, more come in as a stream.

 

> _(534) have u txtd him yet_
> 
> _(534) this is ur reminder 2 b a fuckin bro nt a bitch_
> 
> _(534) TEXT HIM_
> 
> _(534) TEEEEEEEEEEEEEEXT_
> 
> _(534) HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIM_
> 
> _(534) plz dont make us ur only friends u pos man UP_

 

            Murderface _almost_ asks him what makes him think they're his only friends, but... yeah. He knows better. Instead, he turns his phone off and smothers his face in his pillows. His grandma yells at him to come have dinner after a while, so he does. Only a goddamn fool passes up his grandma's fried chicken. He doesn't say shit about the weird Norwegian guy he's having a fucked up crisis over, though. His grandpa would just call him a girl and his grandma would scold him for not trying to be friendly, and it's just not fucking worth it.

            After enough chicken and mashed potatoes to clog an artery, he bites the bullet and turns his phone on. He probably has a lot of nonsensical texts from Pickles and a few bullying ones from Nathan and absolutely _no_ messages he'd actually _want_ to see -

            And he totally has messages from Toki.

 

> _(442) Do you know the work pages for Today's class??_
> 
> _(442) I don't know where my packet is_
> 
> _(442) Do you come to campus early??_
> 
> _(442) We should have breakfast tomorrow!!_

 

            There are a couple of boxes littered throughout the texts, more emojis that his phone can't translate, but Murderface doesn't need them to read the enthusiasm in Toki's texts. Shit. Aw, fuck, _shit_. He should have texted first. He could have set the pace of the conversation to something a little slower than _full throttle into the friend zone_. It's fucking jarring. He needs time to figure out how to deal with this, but who _knows_ how long he's left Toki waiting already and... _Fuck_.

            He doesn't know what the homework is, so he checks his syllabus. He doesn't know how early "early" is, but he knows that they close up breakfast at the cafeteria at 10:30 to get ready for the lunchtime rush. His first class tomorrow isn't until noon.

 

> _(619) ch 43 thru 47_
> 
> _(619) dont have cls til 12 dont want 2 b on campus mr than i need 2 b_

 

            Murderface realizes after he hits send that he's being an asshole, and he's also probably fucking unintelligible to an ESL kid. Shit. There's no way to unsend it, though, so he just settles for smothering himself with the pillow again. He manages to get in a couple chapters of reading for his classes tomorrow while he works himself up over the fact that nobody's _texting him_ now. He almost texts Pickles in a fit, but manages to hold off. He doesn't want to talk about his fucking feelings right now. Shit, he doesn't even _know_ his feelings right now!

 

> _(442) How about lunch!! After classes?_

 

            Murderface knows that this is what people consider normal for friendship, but it's hard to come to terms with the idea that someone is trying to _make plans_ with him. Not even his own grandparents do that. Not that he's complaining, because fuck his grandparents, but still.

 

> _(619) ok_

 

            He's not sure if that's enough. Should he say something else? What's he supposed to do right now?

            Ugh. He knows what to do right now.

 

> _(619) wat do u say wen sum1 wnts 2 hang out_
> 
> _(534) say ok n then hang out w them_
> 
> _(619) just ok_
> 
> _(534) yea dood just ok stop fckn overthinkin shit_
> 
> _(534) else ur gonna b a self fulfillin prophecy_
> 
> _(534) they talked bt that in ur psy101 right its basic stuff dood_
> 
> _(619) FUCK OFF i kno wat ur tlkn bt GOD_

 

            Toki doesn't text back for a little while. Murderface forces himself to not stress about it, which is pretty stressful in itself. He reads the same line on the page three times in a row. He's getting fuck all done.

 

> _(442) Okay!! 1:30pm after classes! Look forward to it!_

 

            "Looking forward to it" isn't exactly what Murderface would call it, but he definitely knows it's going to happen now. He feels kind of nauseous? He's not sure what that means. Nothing _good_ , probably.

            He feels pathetic when he finally texts Pickles back.

 

> _(619) wat if he ditches me_
> 
> _(534) dood itl b okkkk_
> 
> _(619) wat if he finds out my parents r crzy_
> 
> _(534) dnt wry_
> 
> _(619) wat if he thnks im crzy_
> 
> _(534) dnt wry_
> 
> _(619) IM ALRDY WRRIED PCKL KNOK IT OF_
> 
> _(534) look jst take a shwr n dnt b a dick_
> 
> _(534) kno those r hrd 4 u but try_
> 
> _(619) FCK U I TAKE PLENTY OF SHOWERS_

 

            Pickles teases him for the rest of the night about his hygiene, which is rude as fuck. The slams on his dry skin and frizzy hair work him up into a cannonball of irritation and dickery that's really reassuring after a day full of weird emotional turbulence. He knows that's what Pickles planned on, and he's probably pretty pleased it's working, but Murderface graciously decides not to call Pickles out on it. He needs the break more than he needs to be a dick.

            Anyway, he'll have plenty of time to be a dick and ruin everything tomorrow at lunch.

            _Ugh_.

            He winds up watching Netflix documentaries about serial killers instead of doing his homework or responding to Pickles, who's kind of gone off the radar anyway. Watching terrible people do awful things somehow makes him feel just a little bit better about himself. All he can hope is that he can keep that feeling alive until _after_ he's made sure Toki won't hate him. That'd be nice. He's not holding his breath, or anything, but... it'd be nice.


	2. meeting (pt 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What ams you studyings?" Toki asks, before the silence gets noticeably awkward. 
> 
> "Psychology," he grumbles. He hasn't actually taken that many classes for his major - most of it's been filling out the shit that he doesn't care about, first. It made sense at the time, but now that somebody's feigning interest in his major, it seems more like he's been avoiding it.
> 
> "That ams pretty cools," Toki says, and then he abruptly changes subject. "Do yous wanna see me fit an entires Lunchable in my mouth?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> toki and mf have a lil lunch date!!! it goes well i think
> 
> title is subject to change im still not satisfied w/ it but ill figure it out... nobody cares abt chapter titles right???

            By the time Murderface makes it to the dining hall, he's rehearsed answers to stupid questions, debated pretending he'd come down with a flesh eating bacteria and considered whether it'd be smarter to just forget about Toki and go back to his lone wolf status. He's sincerely considered the last option. After all - it's been working for him so far. Why let some guy just _show up_ and ruin everything?

            He almost leaves when he manages to get his food, pay, _and_ find an abandoned table before Toki shows up, but he manages to restrain himself. Instead, he passes the time trying to look pissed off and bored with the food on his plate. He doesn't usually have to work at it, but today he can see three kids from his middle school sitting across the hall, and it's making him nervous. He doesn't know if they've seen him yet. Nathan says nobody gives a shit, but he didn't have homeroom with these fuckers.

            "Sorries I took so longs," Toki says as he reaches the table, dropping his backpack onto the table and ruining Murderface's low-level panic like some kind of _rude asshole_. Murderface shoots him a glare, but it falls short in the face of Toki's out-of-breath smile.

            "Whatever," he grunts, looking away. Immediately, he imagines Pickles giving him the stink eye and reluctantly looks back. "Where the fuck did you run from?"

            Toki shrugs. "I still don'ts know wheres in the fucks I'm goings," he says with a laugh. Is he always so fucking chipper? That shit is going to grate, and _fast_. "I gets, eh... the sciences building, whats on the hill?"

            "...Madison."

            "Madison!" Toki groans and finally sits down, slumping into the chair. "I gets that ones and this place all mixed up. I only reallies know where my room is."

            Murderface remembers getting Madison mixed up with Monroe a lot. It's a forgettable building, is all. It's also pretty far from here, which means Toki busted his ass halfway across campus to make it to lunch with him.

            "Anyways," Toki continues, digging through his backpack and unceremoniously pulling food out of it. "What class did you haves?"

            "College Algebra," Murderface says, distracted by the fact that Toki has _two_ Lunchables. "It'sh for people who suck ballsh at math."

            "Maths ain't easy." Toki rips open a bag of chips. Murderface remembers he has food in front of him too. It'd be weird if he didn't eat, and he's fucking hungry anyway, so he digs into his sandwich as Toki continues, "I can'ts always read the numbers so well, it makes it hard."

            Murderface is supposed to say something, he realizes. Toki's looking at him with a mouthful of crackers. Shit!

            He completely fucking fails to come up with a goddamn thing to say.

            "What ams you studyings?" Toki asks, before the silence gets noticeably awkward. Murderface feels like he's failed something, but he's not sure what. It just feels shitty. Toki is still smiling, though, looking interested in talking - so maybe he should get his brain to calm the fuck down for a few minutes.

            "Psychology," he grumbles. He hasn't actually taken that many classes for his major - most of it's been filling out the shit that he doesn't care about, first. It made sense at the time, but now that somebody's feigning interest in his major, it seems more like he's been avoiding it.

            "That ams pretty cools," Toki says, and then he abruptly changes subject. "Do yous wanna see me fit an entires Lunchable in my mouth?"

            "I guess that dependsh on if you count the Crunch bar or not."

            "I ams a professional, Moidaface, _please_."

            Toki's strategy is to fill his cheeks full of crackers like some kind of fucked up squirrel before stuffing the meat and cheese in as huge processed hunks. Murderface holds his judgment until Toki shoves the Crunch bar into his mouth and holds out his hands to show that they're empty.

            "That's pretty good," he admits. When Toki grins with a full mouth, it makes Murderface's mouth twitch. He doesn't immediately scowl, either, which is probably the only outward sign he's given so far that he's not fucking bored as hell. Maybe he should lighten up, or something. Pickles is always telling him to chill out. "Does every kid in Norway needa learn how to store food like that for the winter, or something?"

            Toki covers his mouth with both hands so he doesn't spill food everywhere. "Not reallies," he mumbles. He struggles to swallow so he can keep talking and it's obnoxious as fuck, but Murderface doesn't call him on it like he would Nathan or Pickles. "I just always ams in a rush, I guess? So's... I makes a game out of eating! Nows, I just use it to impress peoples." He swallows one last time and looks slyly at Murderface. "Ams it working?"

            "Uhhh," Murderface says. "I mean - yeah. Uh. Count me impresched, I guess."

            "So, what bands ams you into?" Toki asks, once he's managed to chew down the entire fucking contents of a Lunchable. Despite not _looking_ it, Murderface _is_ actually impressed.

            Murderface drops eye contact, looking away like he's bored even though he just doesn't want to admit he's just _not_ a music guy. Toki has band shirts - _more than one_ \- and he's probably gonna be pretty disappointed to find out Murderface isn't into that kind of shit.

            "Uh, well... Nathan lishtens to a lot of, uh... metal." He can't remember what kind and he _knows_ he should know that. "Him and Skwisgaar both. Pickles likes that older rock shit." He's avoiding the question and he knows Toki knows from the way he's squinting, so he struggles for a way out. He... could run to the bathroom! Claim food poisoning! He hasn't used the flesh eating bacteria excuse yet, either!

            He slumps into his chair. "I kinda just listen to whatever they like," he sighs. "I never got into music. I guess that makes me pretty lame."

            He risks everything by looking up at Toki, who's expression goes from thoughtful to... kind of manic? Murderface doesn't know what expression it is.

            "You just needs to find the rights kinda musics for yous!"

            "Yeah," Murderface groans. Figures. "That's what they said, too."

            "But it sounds likes... Ehh, yous can says what they likes in one genre. Their likes ams a littles... narrows? Nobody has ever said that abouts me and my musics collection!"

            Murderface squints. "What do you mean?"

            "I _means_ , let me makes you a mix of some different kinds of musics! I bets you that I cans finds something you'll like!"

            Toki looks excited at the idea, but Murderface hesitates. "You mean you'd... _want_ to do that?" Toki gives him a weird look and so he quickly fumbles to brush it off. "Just seems like a lot of trouble to go through."

            "What? No ways!" Toki puts his hands on the tabletop, leaning in eagerly. Is he bouncing on his feet? He might be bouncing on his feet. "That ams what friends do. Whens yous like a song, you shares it! And I likes a whole lot of songs!"

            That... puts a couple things into perspective. Suddenly, a lot of conversations with the guys make a lot more sense. No wonder they're always sharing control of the music and switching songs in the middle and shit. He'd just thought they kind of sucked at listening to a song all the way through.

            "That'd, uh, be okay then, I guess," he mumbles.

            "Oh boys," Toki says, and he actually bounces in his chair a couple of times. "I don'ts gets to shares my musics with lots of peoples. This will be fun!"

            "I always figured everyone in Norway listened to metal or, uh, like... polka."

            Toki laughs. " _Polka_?"

            "I don't know!"

            "Wells, I _cans_ recommend some good polkas, but no's, it amn't just death metals and traditionals musics. Our tops forties are lots of America's top forties, ja? So it amn't so different. Just, you knows... more Norwegian songs."

            "Are any of them good?"

            "Yeps - I means, I likes them. I'll puts some on your mix!"

            Toki's not just pretending to be excited about this music thing. Murderface is caught between wanting to let him down before he gets his hopes up and just letting it go. "Don't be shurprised if I don't like any of it," he says. He feels like it's a good middle-of-the-road response.

            "Who cares? It ams a challenge!"

            "That's fuckin' right, it'll be. I pride myself on being a challenge."

            "Ams that so?"

            Toki's smile is distracting. Murderface stumbles and finds himself grinning back by accident. "Uh, what, you needa see all the fuckin' detention slips I got in high school for challenging authority and not puttin' up with teacher's shit? I'm the _definition_ of problem child."

            "You _do_ seems pretty prouds of it," Toki chuckles. Murderface relaxes back into his chair.

            "It kept school interesting," he says with a shrug.

            "So you knows that pickings music for yous won't be easy."

            " I think we've established _that_."

            "I'm gonna haves to reallies gets to knows you, thens!" He points with mock severity. "Might haves to takes mental notes."

            "Uh, you're _probably_ gonna need _real_ notes. I'm a complicated guy."

            Toki laughs. "Whats, you wants me to follows alongs and writes down everything you dictates?"

            Murderface leans back in his chair, lifting the front legs briefly off the ground as he shrugs. "Well, it'll save me trouble when I write my memoir."

            "Oh yeahs? You gonna writes a book abouts you?"

            Murderface gestures with his hand. "So what, I might!"

            Toki drops his chin to his palm and smirks; some of his hair falls from behind his ear. Murderface drops the chair heavily back on all fours. "What ams you gonna call it?"

            "Uhh..."

            Toki laughs. "That ams what I thoughts you might says."

            Even though he's laughing _at him_ , Murderface doesn't take it personally. It had taken twice this long to get this comfortable around the guys. More than that, even. Murderface can feel himself _almost_ grinning and manages to make it at least a little bit dickish instead of just stupid. "Hey, shut the fuck up!"

            It's around then that he notices Pickles over near the entrance. Shit. He knows that it's only a matter of time before he gets spotted and things get weird. There have been _plenty_ of texts since last night to prove that Pickles is _bound_ to make this weird. " _So_ ," he says, voice lifting a little as he tries to pretend to be casual, "When, uh, d'you have your next clasch?"

            "Umm..." Toki looks at his phone. "Twenty minutes, so I shoulds probablies gets myself moving in ten. I really don't wants to be late to _every_ class."

            Well, hopefully the line takes forever. Murderface shrugs. "It'll get easier," he says, deciding that it's probably okay to take pity on a freshman. "It took me a while to, uhh, get a lay of the land."

            Pickles is waving at him. Damn it!

            "Ams you okays?" Toki's squinting at him. "You keeps looking at the door." His voice drops to a dramatic whisper that somehow puts Murderface at ease. "Ams it the mobs?"

            "That'sch exactly it," he says with a roll of his eyes, "I'm wanted by the fucking _mob_. C'mon, Toki, use your brain." Toki sticks out his tongue and Murderface makes a face back. " _Real_ mature."

            "In my defense, I _dids_ impress you by eatings an entire kid's snack, so maybes I am a littles childish, but I'm nots the only one!"

            It's a pretty solid argument. Murderface gives it up to Toki instead of trying to pick a fight like he would on a normal day; mostly because Pickles is getting through the line a lot faster than Murderface had hoped he would. He turns and locks eyes with Murderface, who sinks into his seat momentarily before sighing. "Look, just - headsh up, Pickles is coming over. Just - don't judge me too harshly for how schtupid my friends are."

            Before Toki can turn around to see who he's talking about, Pickles is already at the table. He drops his tray next to Murderface and sits down with a completely fake smile. _Not_ a good sign. Murderface can only hope his glare bores twin holes through Pickles' skull before he says anything stupid.

            "Well, wouldja look at that. We're here getting lunch at the same time, practically! What a coincidence."

            Toki looks at Murderface funny. Murderface feels his face turning red and glares at Pickles. "Oh, _hi_ , Pickles," he grits out from his genial smile, "You're _right_ , it's jusht such a _funny coincidence_. The fuck do you want?"

            Now Pickles looks at him funny. "Well, I _had_ to say hi, right?" He takes an obnoxious slurp of his bottled soda and leans on the table as he looks at Toki. "And _you_ must be Toki," he says with a smug smile. "I've heard all about you - ow!"

            Murderface jerks his foot away from Pickles' shinbone when Toki looks at him, but he can't distract from what Pickles has already said, so he throws up his hands and tries to do some damage control. "I just said who I was eating with, that's all - it's not like I _talked_ about you or told him anything _weird_ or anything!"

            Toki's eyebrows lift. "Ams you alreadies bragging about makings such an awesome friend? Don't you thinks that ams a bit prematures?"

            "Hey, _you're_ the one making plans with _me_."

            "That ams me being nice! From now on, _you_ have to makes all the plans."

            "Don't put this shit on me!"

            Murderface catches Pickles watching them and realizes he completely forgot Pickles was even _there_. From the expression on Pickles' face, he knows it too, raising both eyebrows at Murderface as his chin finally sinks into both of his hands. It's the same way he sits when reality TV starts to get really interesting.

            "Uh... _Anyway_ ," he says, forcing himself to look back to Toki, who doesn't seem to think anything's amiss. It's probably for the best that Murderface keeps it that way. "Pickles is, uh, the guy I was talking about. With the band."

            "It's not a _band_ ," Pickles immediately corrects, "We just hang out and play music together sometimes."

            "He's the guy with the band."

            Toki laughs a little. "It ams nice to meet you." He glances down at his phone before starting to stuff things back into his bag - books and chips that didn't get eaten and shit like that. "Sorries that I'm nots gonna be ables to stick around for much longers, though. I have class soon."

            "What's your major?" Pickles asks. Murderface forgot that one.

            "Oh, I'm not sure yets, to be fairs? I'm mostlies just working on my general requirements, so that I can tries a bunch of things to see what ams the most interesting."

            "Yeah, that's cool," Pickles says, sounding only mildly interested. "You got some time to decide." He takes another obnoxious drink from his soda bottle, making a face as he puts it down, glancing over at Murderface's fountain drink. "Well, it was nice meetin' ya. I hope Murderface brings ya around sometime."

            Toki glances at Murderface, then smiles at Pickles. "I hopes so too! Otherwise, my notes won't be completes."

            "Yeah, whatever," Murderface sighs, not exactly looking forward to Toki meeting his more interesting friends. Pickles steps on his foot, which would be more disciplinary if he weren't wearing steel-toed boots, but he gets the gist. "I mean.... yeah! Sure. Uhh... I can... text you later. About it, or, uh. Juscht... whatever comes up."

            Normally, that kind of floundering would be like chum in the water, and _some_ body would give him at least a little shit for it. Pickles, though, just grins like maybe he's got something he wants to say, but he's holding it back. Toki doesn't even seem to notice, pushing out of his chair and hefting his bag onto his shoulder. Murderface isn't surprised by that, though - Toki hasn't really harped on him about anything yet. It doesn't seem like his style.

            "Yeah! Maybe we can hangs out laters on. I gotta go nows, though - don'ts wanna get lost again."

            "Do what I told Murderface to do," Pickles says, "Tape maps inside your notebooks. It'll save you a lotta time, plus you'll know where you are even if you're wasted."

            Toki nods, though he looks kind of uncomfortable about the whole drinking mention. "I'll keeps it in mind. Thanks for eatings lunch with me, Moidaface. I'll sees you laters!"

            There's an entire minute of quiet after Toki bounds out through the cafeteria doors. Murderface times it, just because he wants to see how long it takes before Pickles opens his big dumb mouth and says something gross, or even worse, _emotional_.

            "Well, he seems _nice_ ," Pickles says at last, laying on his favorite imitation of a suburban housewife. He and Nathan have, like, an entire thing worked around it; normally, they use it to make fun of the college newspaper or Murderface's manners, but right now, Pickles just sounds like he's trying to hide his sincerity under layers of in-jokes.

            Murderface tries really hard not to look as pleased as he feels about that. "Ugh, shut the fuck up."

            "Dude, I hope ya laid off'a that charm of yours. Seriously, though!" Pickles punches him in the shoulder - harder than he needs to but not as hard as he _could_ , which is better than Skwisgaar. "He seems cool. Cute, too. _Damn_."

            Murderface scowls at him; of course he's gotta fucking ruin the moment. "Don't put your queer fuckin' hands on him, I _swear to god_..."

            "What, are you tryin'a stake a claim on him or somethin'? What'd me an' Skwisgaar tell ya about that shit, dude?"

            "This isn't _like that_! Ugh, why the fuck do you try to make everything I sound gay? I'm not fucking gay!"

            Pickles chomps down on a couple of fries. "You're a fuckin' delight to be around, you know that? A ray'a motherfuckin' sunshine."

            Murderface flips him off and slides the rest of his Pepsi over so Pickles can fill up his suspiciously light colored soda. It's vodka and Coke, probably. Pickles has a way of making drinking at noon before classes completely reasonable; Murderface hasn't judged him over it in months.

            "...He's okay," Murderface mumbles finally, ducking his head to hide the half-grin that he can't seem to fucking _stop_.

            "What was that?" Pickles immediately replies, his voice almost loud enough to draw attention from other tables.

            Murderface shoves him. "You fuckin' heard me, asshole!"

            Pickles laughs and takes a swig of his soda. "Was he wearing a Social Distortion shirt? Didn't really get a look at it with him bouncin' around."

            "He likes music."

            "Bet you two had a _ton_ ta talk about."

            "Fuck off!" Murderface snaps, scowling at the remains of his lunch. He risks a glance, sees Pickles eating more fries, and decides to add, "He says he's gonna 'make me a mix' or whatever," to test the waters. "He says he'll find music I'll like. Good luck with _that_ , right?"

            Pickles' eyebrows spring up as he looks over at Murderface, then furrow briefly before smoothing into something more passive. "Huh. Cool," he says finally, shrugging and going back to his food.

            Murderface _could_ interrogate him and find out what that face means, or badger him about what makes it so _cool_ , but instead, he lets it go. He's having a good day and he doesn't want to fuck it up by starting a potential fight over something stupid. He'll save it for later, in case the day starts going down the shitter and he needs an easy fight to pick.


End file.
